


I've Been Thinkin' Bout Forever

by dexsnursey (nerdy_farm_girl)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Future Fic, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, NurseyDex Week, Pining, Slow Build, nursey gets married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:31:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/pseuds/dexsnursey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dex’s sister once told him that there’s always that one. That one person who you love with all of your heart, but nothing ever comes of it. She was drunk, big blue eyes droopy and sad, staring down at the shiny diamond ring on her left hand.<br/>“I love Pete, you know, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone,” she smiled then, watery, punching Dex on the arm with much less force than usual. “Except for maybe you, but I still get all flustered whenever I see Mark Wright.” She took another sip of wine. “God I was so in love with him in high school. Never said anything though… he was just too… pretty.”</p><p>Looking back, Dex wishes he had paid a little more attention, maybe asked his sister how she moved on from Mark Wright and met the man she would go on to marry and have a brood of beautiful little kids with. He could really, really use the advice. Because Derek Nurse just walked in, holding hands with some guy. And they’ve both got silver bands on their left hands.</p><p>
  <i>Or: Dex and Nursey finally get their shit together, but it take a few (ten) years and some heartbreak in between</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Been Thinkin' Bout Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Shannon](http://whiskeyisfine.tumblr.com/) who prompted: _"nurseydex week prompt: within a few years after the frogs have graduated nursey gets married to someone. SMH has a reunion, and nursey brings his husband. when they're all drunk he and dex wind up alone getting more beers. dex: i have to say this. i can’t believe you’re married. i can’t say this. nursey: say what you need to say. this is our one chance. dex: Why aren’t you married to ME? nursey: don’t do this to me man. dex: I NEVER LOOKED AT YOU THAT WAY BEFORE YOU TOLD ME YOU WANT TO DATE ME_
> 
> Uh this got really out of hand, but I hope you enjoy it dear!!! Also, in case the tags aren't clear, in the beginning of this fic, Nursey is married.... and not to Dex. But there is a happy ending. 
> 
> Title from Thinkin Bout You by Frank Ocean

Dex’s sister once told him that there’s always that one. That one person who you love with all of your heart, but nothing ever comes of it. She was drunk, big blue eyes droopy and sad, staring down at the shiny diamond ring on her left hand. 

“I love Pete, you know, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone,” she smiled then, watery, punching Dex on the arm with much less force than usual. “Except for maybe you, but I still get all flustered whenever I see Mark Wright.” She took another sip of wine. “God I was so in love with him in high school. Never said anything though… he was just too…  _pretty_.”

 

Looking back, Dex wishes he had paid a little more attention, maybe asked his sister how she moved on from Mark Wright and met the man she would go on to marry and have a brood of beautiful little kids with. He could really,  _really_  use the advice. Because Derek Nurse just walked in, holding hands with some guy. And they’ve both got silver bands on their left hands.

 

This was supposed to be a reunion. Or well, it  _is_  a reunion, the first time the Samwell crew has gotten together as a whole since Bitty graduated. That was five years ago, and he and Jack have finally moved out of Jack’s apartment in Providence to a  _giant_  house in the suburbs of East Greenwich, Rhode Island. One of their neighbors is a retired Packers player. It’s wild. 

 

Dex has… kind of failed at keeping in touch with his teammates. Well, except Chowder, because he would feel too guilty to  _not_  keep up with Chowder. And of course Holster, though sometimes Dex  _wishes_  he had lost touch with him. That’s a lie, a bold one. Holster managed to pull some strings and get Dex an internship at the company he works at in Providence. After graduation, Dex got hired full time, and now he sees Holster every goddamn day. They don’t even work in the same department, Holster had made his way up to being a Finance Manager (with people reporting to him and everything… those poor souls), and Dex started as an IT specialist, but has transitioned over to a financial analyst, but one who works with the system that financials are planned in more than the numbers themselves. Even so, Holster manages to call him down to his office at least twice a week. Usually to help him demonstrate some story from college to his employees. It’s obnoxious. Dex kind of loves it. 

Anyways, the point is, he hasn’t seen the rest of the guys in forever, and he’s in the middle of asking Lardo about her latest art exhibit when Derek Fucking Nurse appears. Suddenly, Dex knows  _exactly_  what his sister was talking about. 

 

He’s always been kind of a jealous asshole, but it’s never made him feel physically ill until right now. His last memory of Nursey springs to mind, the warm May sun hot on their backs, arms wrapped around each other in a hug that lasts a bit too long.  _Call me some time Poindexter_. Nursey’d whispered, too soft, too sad.  _I’m gonna miss you_.

Dex never called.

Dex never called, and now he gets to watch Nursey’s mouth form the words ‘my husband’ as he introduces the guy to Bitty. 

“You alright dude?” Lardo nudges his shoulder, shaking him out of his daze. Dex nods, making an excuse about needing another drink before slipping away. 

He manages to get through two more beers and a handful of jello shots before Nursey and The Husband finally get to him. The alcohol makes it easier to paste a jolly smile on his face, makes it easier to act like the way he throws his arm around Nursey’s shoulders is just bros being bros. The Husband’s name is Jordan, and he’s an accountant, and he and Nursey met at grad school. He’s got soft freckles on his face and reddish blonde hair and eyes on the gray side of blue. He’s handsome, Dex guesses, if you’re looking for someone like Clint Eastwood. (Who  _isn’t_  looking for someone like Clint Eastwood? He was a  _babe_  back in the day. Come on Dex, get yourself together here). Jordan laughs at Nursey’s jokes and smiles with dimples and tells Dex that he’s been looking forward to meeting the guy who got  _Derek_  through college.

Dex’s smile falters for a moment, remembering all the nights he and Nursey would pass out on the same bed, notes and books spread around them. He can’t forget the way Nursey looked in the morning, bleary eyed and his hair all a mess, bumping shoulders with Dex as they headed to Faber. Or that night, that kegster, where they sat on the stairs together, Nursey’s chin hooked over Dex’s shoulder, legs all tangled together, talking shit about all the LAX bros and fluttering their eyelashes at pretty girls, Nursey’s fingers tracing patterns across Dex’s back. Sometimes he wishes he could forget, sometimes he hopes he never does.

He manages to pull it back together though, making a joke about the amount of coffee they used to consume and trying not to die a little inside when Jordan tells him that he and Nursey are caffeine free now. Not long after he makes a few excuses and attaches himself to Holster’s side for the duration of the night. 

Dex avoids Nursey and  _Jordan_  for as long as he can, accepting every challenge posed to him by Ransom and Holster, and purposefully asking Jack questions that set him off on rants about history. It doesn’t mean he stops watching them though, doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice the way Nursey smiles at Jordan, the way they can communicate without speaking, the way it makes Dex ache for his long lost best friend. 

“Hey.” 

Dex glances up from the beer bottle he’s been peeling the label off of to find Nursey sliding into the chair beside him. He seems out of place in this backyard lit up with tiki torches, legs too long and face that belongs on the pages of a magazine.

“Hey yourself,” Dex shoots back, holding in the ‘where’s  _Jordan_?’ quivering on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t want to fight anymore, not with Nursey, anyways. Instead he just looks, takes in the way his jaw has sharpened and his cheeks have hollowed, notices the ring in his nose and the way his hair still looks the same. He stares at the tattoo that reaches all the way down to his wrist now and peeks out of the collar of his shirt, imagines that maybe, just maybe, there’s a piece of that dedicated to him. 

“We should catch up,” Nursey says, slowly, in that voice that means he’s trying to come off as calm and collected but he’s really freaking out inside. “There’s a tree house just on the edge of the woods there, wanna check it out?”

Dex considers saying no, considers telling Nursey that he’s being strange, that they’re twenty five years old, they can’t be getting drunk and climbing trees any more.

“’Kay, let’s go,” Dex says instead, pushing himself up out of the chair, thankful he doesn’t stumble. He follows Nursey across the grass in silence. Nursey walks different now, faster, like he’s in a hurry. Their gates don’t match up anymore, so Dex settles for trailing behind, trying to calm the stuttering of his heart.

The tree house looks sturdy, like the previous owners of Jack and Bitty’s house had enough money to hire a professional to build it. Nursey pulls himself up the ladder without second thought, and Dex scoffs.

“What was that for?” Nursey huffs, face indignant as he peers down at Dex from the top.

“Some things haven’t changed,” Dex laughs, shaking his head as he reaches up and tests the wooden rungs, just in case. “You didn’t even check to see if the ladder was in good shape before taking off.”

“Looks like you’re still uptight, huh Poindexter?” Nursey chirps, disappearing into the treehouse. Dex just shakes his head and starts up the ladder.

“Nah, I’m cool as a cucumber Nurse. A guy’s got to learn to adapt working with Birkholtz on a daily basis.” 

He pauses at the top, swallowing hard at the sight of Nursey sprawled across the floor, staring up at the stars through the skylight in the roof. Forcing all those gross feelings back down, he stretches out beside him, tucking his hands behind his head so their elbows just brush.

“So…” Dex starts, turning his head towards Nursey. “You’re married huh?”

“Yeah,” Nursey turns and grins. “Hooked a hottie. How about you? Got a babe on the line?” 

Dex blinks, suddenly transported back to senior year, the morning after their first Kegster of the year. Nursey had arrived home in the early afternoon, hickeys covering his neck and lipstick smeared across his lips. ‘ _Hooked a hottie’_. He’d grinned, flopping down next to Dex on the couch, promptly drinking the rest of his Gatorade and devouring the cookies Bitty had sent for them.  _How’d you make out Poindexter? Get your dick sucked or what?_

“Nah,” Dex sucks in a breath, holding it for five seconds before slowly letting it out. “You know how I am, uptight asshole who has difficulty connecting emotionally.”

“ _Will_.”

“And you know, I work a lot. Gotta pay the bills somehow.” He wishes he had thought to bring beer with them, anything to distract him from the way the back of his throat feels to tight. Nursey presses a flask into his hand as if he could read his mind, smirk pulling at his lips that doesn’t match the concern in his eyes.

“Brought the good stuff,” he whispers, waggling his eyebrows. Dex believes him until he takes a swig, coughing as the UV Blue slides down his throat, all fake raspberry and reminding him of Beth from Sigma Alpha that he dated for a few months junior year. 

“Goddamit Nurse,” Dex huffs, tossing the flask back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The good stuff my ass, you fucker.” Nursey keeps grinning, taking a long swig without even flinching.

“So you and Holster are working for The Man now huh? Corporate big wigs?” The blue liquor clings to his teeth, but he’s still beautiful, still infuriating.

“Not all of us can write children’s books for a living Nurse,” Dex grumbles, feeling pleased when Nursey lights up. 

They talk about his work for a while, passing the flask back and forth until Dex’s vision starts to go blurry. He pushes himself up and leans back against the wall, blinking slowly as Nursey slumps against him. 

“You know I…” Dex trails off, curling his fingers into his thighs. “I can’t believe you’re  _married_  dude, I just never, I always thought… I shouldn’t… never mind… we should go back.”

“Just say what you gotta say bro,” Nursey murmurs. “Just get it off your chest, ‘snot like you’re gonna talk to me again after tonight anyways.”

“I just…” Dex grabs the flask out of Nursey’s limp hands and drains it, setting it gently on the floor between them. “Why aren’t you married to  _me_?”

“What?” Nursey straightens, his eyes going wide. “You better not be saying what I think you’re saying.”

“Oh come on Derek, you had to know I was half in love with you the moment I met you! Don’t act like you didn’t notice me  _pining_. We fucking lived together for two years man.”

“I honestly didn’t…” Nursey stops and drags his hands down his face. “Fuck.”

“See, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Dex glares at the empty flask, wishing it could magically refill itself. 

“Maybe you should have said something like, I dunno, four fucking years ago,” Nursey growls, and he sounds angrier than Dex has ever heard him. “Before you disappeared off the face of the earth. Before I got the fuck over you and moved on.”

Dex’s stomach drops.

“I think I’m gon’ be sick,” he groans, dragging himself over to the ladder and hanging his head out. He can see Chowder standing on the edge of the lawn, watching as his one year old son toddles after Jack and Bitty’s puppy. “Chowder!” He calls, ignoring what sounds suspiciously like sniffling from Nursey behind him. “Come help us, we’re drunk as fu- um, skunks!” He watches as Chowder rolls his eyes but motions to Cait, waiting until she’s fully focused on the baby to stride towards the tree house.

Chowder probably weighs more than Dex now, four years in the NHL has toned and built his muscles, given him the air of a  _man_. Dex is constantly impressed, especially when he himself still feels like a kid.

“Just like old times huh guys?” He asks, climbing halfway up the ladder. Back in college, Dex had assumed Chowder was oblivious to social cues and conflicts, but now he knows he just hates dealing with other people’s stupidity. Right now, Dex and Nursey definitely fall into the category.

“You won’t be laughing when Poindexter pukes on you Chow,” Nursey grumbles. Chowder’s eyes flick to Dex’s, and Dex shakes his head. It’s a silent question, because Chowder  _knows._  He definitely knows. 

“I won’t throw up, I promise,” Dex mumbles, turning himself around and shakily stepping down the ladder. “Just make sure I don’ fall.” He feels Chowder’s hand curl around his calf, then press against his back, guiding him down.

“I got your back bro,” Chowder says when he makes it to the ground, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you head back, I think there’s water in that green cooler by the grill. I’ll get this asshole down. We’ll be right behind you.”

Dex takes that as a chance to escape, quickly saying his good byes as he calls for an uber. He wants to blame the sourness in his stomach on the raspberry vodka and the craft beer and the watermelon jello shots, but he knows its disappointment and regret and heartbreak, stirring together with the alcohol to create something toxic. The uber driver seems wary when he pulls up, probably because Dex is sitting on a sidewalk in a rich neighborhood all pale and red eyed. But he doesn’t say anything, and Dex shows his gratitude by not puking in his Lexus and leaving a healthy tip. He doesn’t remember much about stumbling up his front steps or fumbling with his keys, doesn’t remember collapsing on his coach and forcing his dog to cuddle with him, but he does remember wishing, just for a moment, that Nursey was there with him.

* * *

 

Dex glares at his desk phone, watching BIRKHOLTZ, ADAM scroll across the little green screen. The urge to ignore it is strong, almost as strong as the headache still lingering behind his eyes. This is the first two day hangover he’s ever had, but apparently it’s a side effect of graduating college. Of course, the moping and continuous drinking on a Sunday probably didn’t help things either. He sighs and answers the phone.

“What do you want?”

“Good morning my beautiful little leprechaun!” Holster _sings_. Dex hates him. He really, really hates him. “How ya feeling?”

“Terrible.” Dex grunts, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear so he can type out a response to an email. “Please tell me this is work related. I just spent an entire evening playing drinking games with you, I don’t need to socialize.”

“Bruh, it’s always work related with me,” Holster says in his Business Voice, before dropping it back down into that bro-y baritone. “I’m requesting your presence in my office. I need assistance with your system. The Annual Financial Planning report isn’t working.”

“Did you put in the right profit center,” Dex asks, even though he _knows_ Holster probably doesn’t even have the system open.

“Just come down here Poindexter,” Holster barks, the line going dead. Dex sighs. This ought to be fun. He pushes himself out of his chair anyways, tucking his work cell into his pocket and on second thought, grabbing his coffee too. He’s going to need it.

Holster’s talking to one of his interns when Dex rounds the corner, the girl’s cheeks red as she laughs. “Well don’t you look like shit!” Holster bellows when he sees Dex, sounding utterly delighted about that observation. “This is why you can’t quit drinking after college Jackie, you lose all your tolerance.”

“Good morning Jackie,” Dex says politely, before turning a glare onto Holster. “Alright, show me your issue.” Holster grins with every single one of his giant white teeth, and motions grandly towards his office door.

“William, please step into my office.” Dex sighs but does it, taking one glance at Holster’s black computer screen and flopping into one of the spare chairs. As usual, there will be no business discussed this morning. “I would like to discuss your sudden departure from the kegster on Saturday night,” Holster says grandly, spinning around in his chair. He spins too far and knocks into his desk, but his eyes remain fixed on Dex.

“It was _not_ a kegster, it was a barbecue,” Dex grumbles, glaring down at his knees. “And it was not sudden, I said goodbye to everyone. I was very drunk.”

“Mhmmm.” Holster hums, stroking his chin sagely. Vaguely, Dex considers punching him. “Yes, I saw you and Nurse disappear into that treehouse together. And then you practically ran out of the party like your ass was on fire.” Just the sound of Nursey’s name has Dex’s stomach dropping, his chest going too tight.

“I drank too much,” he says slowly, picking at the seam of his pants. “Had to get out of there before I yakked on Jack’s begonias.” Dex doesn’t look up, preferring to stare at the stitching on his dress shoes. But Holster remains quiet, and after a few seconds the uncharacteristic silence becomes unnerving. With a long suffering sigh he lifts his head, only to find Holster’s face dripping with something that might be pity. “What is that look for?” Dex snaps, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He feels like he’s eighteen again, defensive, looking for a fight, head over heels for Derek Nurse.

“Just not used to seeing you looking so sorry for yourself,” Holster says after a moment, breaking into a lopsided smile. “It’s pretty pathetic.”

“Well you’d probably feel pretty sorry for yourself if Rans showed up out of the blue with a husband too.” It’s kind of mean, really, Holster’s never explicitly talked about his unrequited thing going on with Ransom. But he should know better than to try and chirp Dex about this.

“That _would_ suck,” Holster says, tipping back slightly in his chair. “I mean, leaving me after two years and getting married… that’s _cold_ man. Ransy-poo would _never_.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I!” Holster shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “All you assholes always think I’m kidding! Me and Ransom and together, dating, rocking the boat, touching dicks, whatever!” Dex stares for a minute. Huh. Apparently he’d somehow missed that. “Also,” Holster continues, “Nursey posted about getting married on Facebook. Where have you been?”

“I don’t go on Facebook,” Dex says slowly. “And no one must’ve… Chowder must not have told me ‘cause he knew… He knew I’d be, I’d be a dick about it.”

“ _Bro_ ,” Holster sighs, rolling his chair way into Dex’s space and slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Maybe it’s just not your time yet! It took me and Rans ages to get out shit together.”

“But he’s _married_.” The word tastes _bad_ on his tongue, like sour milk.

“So?” Holster laughs. “Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce!” Dex scowls, cinching his arms tighter across his chest. It’s not that he hasn’t thought of that little factoid already. The problem is he doesn’t _want_ Nursey to get divorced. Or well, he doesn’t want Nursey to be sad.

“I don’t want that for him,” he huffs. “I want him to be happy.”

The grin slides off Holster’s face. “You’re really in love with him, huh?” Dex just nods. There’s no use in denying something that’s become such a huge part of him. “It’ll work out in the end.” Holster says after a moment. “Either you’ll end up finding someone who just blow your socks off and you’ll never look back, or you and Nursey will end up together. You deserve to be happy bro, and I’m 100% sure you’ll get there one day.”

Dex sighs and stands up, shaking the wrinkles out of his pants. “If you say so man.” He claps Holster on the shoulder before striding towards the door. “I gotta go get some real work done.”

As he walks back down the hall, Holster starts sing what _might_ be One Direction. Dex hides his smile behind the brim of his coffee cup.

* * *

 

[5 years later]

Just as Dex is about to lock his computer and head home, his office phone starts ringing. BIRKHOLTZ, ADAM scrolls across the screen, and he doesn’t bother holding back a groan. You’d think after close to ten years of working together, Holster would have found someone else to annoy.

“This is William Poindexter’s office,” Dex answers the phone, tucking it between his ear and his shoulder. “He is currently in a meeting, can I please take a message.”

“Wow Dex, you’re getting better at that,” Holster laughs. “Maybe when you retire from your position as a director, you could pursue a career in administration. Also, I enjoy talking to Maxine _way_ more than talking to you.”

“What do you want, Birkholtz,” Dex sighs, logging off of his computer in preparation for what’s coming next.

“That’s no way to talk to the Senior Vice President of North American Finance,” Holster says, clucking his tongue. “Come up to my office before you leave, I have to talk to you about something.” True to form, he hangs up before Dex can get another word in.

Dex groans and shoves his laptop in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. The walk to Holster’s office is longer now, with Dex moving to his own office three years ago and Holster getting promoted to the eighth floor a two years after that. He still takes the trip a couple times a week, though more often than not he and Holster are involved in legitimate business meetings. It’s like their real grown-ups now or something.

He is a little bit surprised to find Ransom sitting on the corner of Holster’s desk, frowning down at the cell phone in his hand.

“Rans?” Dex asks cautiously, settling gently into one of the chairs in front of Holster’s desk. He’s got windows in his office now, a perfect view of the State House. “Everything okay?”

“No.” Ransom looks up from his phone, eyes big and sad. His eyes flicker to Holster when he walks in, shutting the door gently behind him. “I got this message from Nursey a few hours ago.” He looks grim as he presses play on his phone, and Dex’s stomach drops.

“Hey Rans, um, it’s me, Nursey? Derek Nurse? I uh, god this seems so stupid.” Dex’s heart starts to race at the sound of that voice, still throaty and low and pleasant. “I just finalized my divorce. Guess we weren’t as perfect as I thought. I think it was the eyes, you know? We both have cool, like temperature cool eyes, they’re not compatible. I need warmth. Anyways um, I tried to call um, Will, but I think he got a new number.” Guilt instantly washes over Dex, cold and sticky. “A chick answered and she didn’t know who I was talking about, so um, unless Dex got married too. Which yeah, good for him! But yeah, it’d be chill if you could tell the guys for me? I really miss everyone, but I just, am not good at telling people these things, so if you could spread the word? God this is a fucking long message, talk to you soon buddy, bye.”

The silence that follows suffocates Dex. Guilt and happiness and anxiety turn his heart into a snare drum, trying to beat its way out of his ribs. Both Ransom and Holster are staring at Dex like he’s a bomb, like there’s a countdown to an explosion that they just can’t hear.

“You gonna call him back?” Dex breaks the silence, hating the way his voice sounds raw and broken. Ransom and Holster share a look that includes a lot of eyebrow movements and narrowing and widening of eyes. “Look,” Dex says after a moment. “I’m just gonna… I need to go home, okay? You can call him and bitch about how terrible of a friend I am after I leave.” He grabs his bag and sweeps out the door, not daring to make eye contact with either of them. It’s for the best, anyways.

Picking up a bottle of UV Blue on the way home is probably a terrible decision, and drinking it all while sitting in front of the TV by himself is an even worse one, but he does it anyways. The blue raspberry reminds him of Nursey now instead of that girl from college, and he relishes in the way it clings to his teeth and stains them blue. It’s harder to forget, that way. He has to call out of work the next morning, unable to leave his place curled up on the bathroom floor, with his dog, Rory, checking on him every hour or so before she returns to her nap. It would be easy, to call Nursey now, to suggest they meet up, get drinks, fuck. But Dex was his friend first, and it seems like he should be offering friendship and support instead of a relationship to someone who just finalized a divorce. So the hours drag into days and into weeks, with Dex going about his life, pretending like something big hasn’t changed. The pretending is the hard part, with Holster giving him _looks_ every day and the intrusive thoughts about seeing Nursey again niggling at the back of his brain. It kind of becomes _normal_ , and Dex thinks that maybe this will be a part of him now, just like loving Nursey is.

It’s a Friday night, two months after The Message, and Dex is getting home late. The summer sun is just starting to sink in the sky, the temperature becoming more comfortable as it goes. As usual, he doesn’t have any plans, except maybe to grill a couple of burgers and drink a beer on the back porch with Rory. He likes it that way, calm, relaxing, routine.

And then his heart stops beating.

Sitting next to the overflowing pot of geraniums on his front porch, legs stretched down the steps and eyes squinted into the sun, is Derek Nurse. For a moment, Dex considers backing out of the driveway and racing away from whatever is going to happen next. But the longer he stares the more fragile Nursey looks, and he knows he could never leave him there. With a knot in his stomach he parks his Jeep, taking slow, purposeful breaths as he grabs his work bag and climbs out.  

“Hey Will,” Nursey grins, reclining back on the front steps like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Funny seeing you here.” Dex raises an eyebrow as he comes to a stop, staring down at his former best friend.

“So that’s how you’re gonna play this?” It was meant to be a chirp but it comes out too soft. If he hadn’t been staring, he might’ve missed the way Nursey’s bottom lip wobbled.

“I…” Nursey turns his face away, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“ _Derek_.” Dex holds open his arms, relief flooding his system when Nursey flings himself into them. Just like that, Dex is back in the Haus, the smell of cherry pie filling the air and Nursey’s arms around him, warm and solid as his hands sweep up and down his back. It’s like nothing has changed since college, like they’re still the same twenty years old hockey players they were, just for a moment. But then Nursey snuffles against his neck, and reality comes flooding back. “Come on,” Dex murmurs, rubbing his hand down Nursey’s back before pulling him back slightly, “let’s go inside.”

He pretends not to notice the duffle Nursey slings over his shoulder as they climbs the steps, instead focusing on just getting them inside the door. His neighbors aren’t particularly nosey, but the last thing he needs is to become the subject of neighborhood gossip. Rory is waiting for them inside the door, alternating between leaping as far as she can to try and lick Dex’s face, and growling halfheartedly at Nursey.

“This is Rory,” Dex explains, hanging his bag carefully on the hook to the left of the door and dropping his keys into the bowl. “She’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“So this is who’s been barking for the past hour,” Nursey coos, dropping into a crouch. Rory sniffs his fingers before throwing caution into the wind and leaping into his arms, licking enthusiastically at his chin and ears. “I always pictured you with a bigger dog.” He adds, dropping back onto his ass and letting Rory settle into his lap. “What kind is she anyways?”

“Corgi mix,” Dex grunts, kicking off his shoes and placing them carefully on the mat beside the door. “And I wanted a retriever… but she needed a home and well… it’s been almost seven years now so…”

“I was with Jordan for seven years.”

Dex stops in his tracks on the way to the kitchen, peering cautiously back over his shoulder. Nursey’s staring blankly at the wall in front of him, his fingers still curled in Rory’s fur.

“Well, it’s not a coincidence,” Dex admits after a moment, taking a hesitant step back towards Nursey. “Chris had mentioned you had a serious boyfriend and I… I had a little meltdown. I was all by myself here, and was kind of a mess. Eventually Chris convinced me to get a dog. She uh, she’s the best.” Nursey blinks up at him from the floor, lips lifting into a lopsided smirk after a moment.

“You replaced me with a dog?” He laughs, and it’s not quite like it used to be, but it’s something.

“I upgraded,” Dex huffs as he pulls Nursey to his feet. “Come on, I need some alcohol if I’m going to deal with you.”

“Fucking harsh Poindexter,” Nursey chuckles, but he follows him into the kitchen anyways, letting out a low whistle as he settles into a stool at the kitchen counter.

“Bitty approved kitchen, I know,” Dex explains, yanking open the fridge and pulling out two beers. “Don’t use it nearly as much as I should. Cooking for one isn’t really as fun as it sounds.” He hands Nursey the beer, watching the smooth way he flicks his wrist and twists off the top, the slow bob of his throat as he takes a sip. Nursey just nods, silence settling over them, only broken by the click of Rory’s toenails on the hardwood.

“Sorry for just showing up,” Nursey starts, setting his empty beer bottle carefully on the counter. “I uh, Ransom gave me your address. I couldn’t stay in the apartment any more. I had to get out of New York.”

“Dude,” Dex drops onto the stool beside him. “You’re always welcome here. You can stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks man.” Nursey grins, but it’s fleeting. “You know… I’m less sad about Jordan and more upset about… failing, you know? It’s like, I couldn’t even be successful at that.”

“Staying together and being unhappy would be just as much as a failure.” Dex shrugs, chest going tight. “You deserve to be happy.”

This time, Nursey’s smile is slow and lasting, lighting up his entire face. Dex feels himself smiling back without permission, his entire body going warm. Just like that, he’s fallen completely and utterly back in love with Derek Nurse.

“Jordan hated you, you know.” Nursey’s sprawled across Dex’s couch, staring at him upside down across the living room.

“Um…” Dex glances at his fifth or six beer, sitting empty on the coffee table. “That’s… I don’t know how you want me to react to that.” Nursey grins, and it looks kind of funny upside down. Still pretty though, always pretty.

“I think it’s ‘cause he could tell that I had something special with you….” Nursey blinks a few times, staring blankly at Dex. “And ‘cause I talked about you a lot. And maybe cried about you when I was drunk a few times.”

“Oh god, Nursey,” Dex hides his face behind his hands. “Do you remember how terribly this conversation ended last time? I almost fell out of a tree!”

“There’s no UV Blue though,” Nursey drawls, proud of himself. “Plus this time, I’m not married anymore.”

“That’s true.” Dex needs a beer. He really, really needs another beer.

“And maybe this time I won’t lie about being over you.”

Dex stares at him for a moment, weighing the consequences of crossing the room and crawling on top of Nursey on the couch, of pinning his hands above his head and kissing him senseless. In the end, his rational side wins, knowing there’s been too much alcohol and not enough talking for that to be anything but a terrible decision. Not that Dex isn’t good at making terrible decisions, but it feels like he might be getting a second chance here, and he’s not about to fuck it up.

“We are tabling this discussion until tomorrow,” Dex announces, uncurling himself from his chair. “After you get some sleep and sober up.” Nursey grumbles something and turns his face into the arm of the couch, reminding Dex of all the nights he’d have to force Nursey to leave a dying party at 3am. “I’m not afraid to leave you down here,” he continues, gathering the empty beer bottles and carrying them into the kitchen. “But there is a guest bedroom upstairs if you want it.” There’s a groan followed by a loud thud, and he’s not at all surprised to find Nursey sprawled on the floor when he gets back into the living room. Some things never change.

Getting Nursey up the stairs isn’t as much of a project as it used to be. But maybe that’s just because Dex’s stairs and wider and brighter and sturdier than the ones at the Haus. It would be easy, to just bring Nursey into his room, to fall asleep beside him like they used to do all those years ago. But Dex is steadily approaching 30, and he’s almost certain bed sharing can’t be passed off as bros being bros anymore. So he leaves Nursey in the guest bedroom, and falls into bed, alone.

They don’t talk about it, after that. They talk about everything else, about how Nursey’s writing a young adult novel and Dex is working on becoming CEO by the time he’s 45 and about Chris and Cait’s kids and Jack and Bitty’s kids and taking bets on when Ransom and Holster are going to finally get married ( _They probably already are Dex. Probably went to Niagra Falls. That was their place)_. They reminisce about college and Nursey talks about grad school and Dex tells him about all the stupid shit Holster has done in the work place. They talk about the pets they want to have ( _No Dex seriously. I want a fucking hedgehog. I’m getting a hedgehog. I don’t care if they smell, have you ever seen anything as cute as this little fucker? You can’t stop me_ ), and kids and growing old and staying young. But they don’t talk about _them_.

Dex goes back to work on Monday, and Nursey’s still there when he gets home. The house smells like food, _good_ food, and Nursey scowls at the blatant skepticism on his face. Dex doesn’t say a word, just hold his hands up in surrender and disappears upstairs to change his clothes. They fall into a routine after that: have coffee together in the morning before Dex goes to work, Nursey cooks dinner and then they wash dishes together, before retiring to the living room or the back porch before bed. Nursey buys himself a car after the first week, a sleek white BMW. He starts doing grocery shopping, and going to the local library to write, but he’s always home in time for dinner. It’s nice, perfect really, so Dex isn’t all that surprised when he manages to screw it up.

It’s a Saturday night, a month since Nursey first showed up on his doorstep, and they’re grilling on the back porch. Rory chases fireflies around the yard as Dex finishes up mowing the lawn, the smell of burgers cooking making his stomach rumble. He parks the mower in the garden shed and wipes his hands on a rag, before crossing the yard to the porch. Nursey looks up from the grill and grins, his curls wild from the humidity but his eyes bright. His tattoo has started creeping down the other arm now, intricate swirls and lines with words hidden in between. Dex suddenly has the urge to see the whole thing, to trace his fingers over the lines and try to find the meaning. Instead, he does the next thing that comes to mind, pressing his chest to Nursey’s back and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Thanks for cooking,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of Nursey’s neck. Nursey goes tense in his arms, and it takes approximately five seconds for Dex to realize what he just did. “ _Shit._ ” He drops his arms and takes a step back, entire face going hot in a way it hasn’t in years as his pulse pounds in his ears. “I’m – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – _fuck_.” When he looks up, Nursey has closed the grill and is regarding him seriously, head tilted to the side.

“You didn’t mean to kiss me?” He says eventually, taking a step towards Dex. Dex steps back instinctually, swallowing hard when he hits the porch rail.

“No, I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says shakily, attempting to burn a hole through the deck with his eyes.

“Who said I was uncomfortable?” Nursey asks, his bare feet stepping over and then past the spot on the floor Dex was glaring at. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’d be 100% okay with you doing it again.”

Heat begins to work its way down Dex’s spine, pooling hot and molten low in his belly. He looks up slowly, unable to stop himself from dragging his gaze up Nursey’s body, lingering on his still corded arms and broad chest. By the time he gets to his face, Nursey’s smirking, his eyes dark and inviting.

“Well,” Dex reaches for Nursey’s hips, pulling him closer until their thighs brush. “If you’re _100% okay_ with it.”

“God, you’re still such an asshole aren’t you?” Nursey huffs, but he’s staring at Dex’s lips, pupils growing steadily larger.

“Take one to know one.” Dex smirks before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

In college, Dex had always imagined their first kiss would happen in the middle of a fight, somewhere between screaming _fuck you_ and _I hate you_ , they’d end up making out furiously against the wall. This kiss is nothing like that. It’s slow, hesitant maybe, like they’re both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Dex pulls back after a few seconds, weirdly into the way their lips sort of stick together for just a moment. He stares at Nursey’s wide eyes, and he looks just as amazed and nervous as Dex feels.

“I’m still in love with you,” Dex whispers, watching as Nursey’s eyes widen even more and his lips quirk up into a grin.

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,” Nursey whispers, hands coming up to cup Dex’s cheeks. “I love you simply, without problems or pride; I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving.”

“You’re such a sap,” Dex says, but he’s already halfway to kissing him again. This time all the hesitance is gone, replaced with fervor, all lips and teeth and tongue. Nursey kisses like he’s dying for it, like the press of Dex’s lips is the air he needs to breathe. It’s intoxicating and all encompassing, dragging Dex deeper and deeper into a madness that he never wants to escape.

“We’re getting another dog,” Nursey mumbles between kisses, his lips trailing along Dex’s jaw, teeth nipping at his ear. “And a hedgehog. That’s nonnegotiable.” Dex grins through a low moan, pushing his hands up beneath Nursey’s tank top, tracing across the hard ridges of his abs and the coarse hair sprinkled across his chest. “And kids, lots of kids,” Nursey continues, lips hot as they close over Dex’s pulse point and suck.  “Enough to flood and freeze this backyard and have a full hockey game, alright?”

“Keep talking,” Dex grunts, gripping Nursey’s hips and spinning them around, pressing Nursey back against the porch rail before dropping to his knees. Slowly, he pushes up the hem of Nursey’s shirt, pressing open mouthed kisses the cut of his hips.

“Jesus Dex,” Nursey chokes, his hands dropping to cup Dex’s face and curl in his hair.

“Used to think about shoving you up against our bedroom door and doing this,” Dex admits, blushing as he pops the button on Nursey’s jeans and yanks down the fly. Nursey swears when he presses his mouth against the outline of his dick, leaving the fabric of his briefs hot and damp. He only gets louder when Dex slides his briefs down his thighs, fingers trembling in Dex’s hair as he licks and sucks, take him as deep as he can. Dex watches him through his lashes, enthralled with the way Nursey’s eyes go so dark they look black, the way his abs clench as he tries not to come. Dex pulls off and jacks him with his hand, obscenities and dirty encouragements falling from his lips.

Nursey comes with a shout, curling in on himself with his hands clutching a Dex’s hair.  He watches with hooded eyes as Dex licks his hand clean, groaning and dragging Dex up to his feet. They kiss slow and hot, like Nursey’s trying to learn every inch of Dex’s mouth, trying to taste himself on Dex’s lips. Dex’s blood is on fire, slowly consuming him from the inside out. He never thought he could have this, never thought he’d get to know the taste of Nursey’s kiss and the scrape of stubble against his cheeks. Nursey pushes a hand down his shorts and strokes him in rhythm with his kisses. Dex comes quickly, whispering Nursey’s name into the crook of his neck.

They stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, until their heart rates even out and their breathing returns to normal.

“The burgers are gonna burn,” Dex says finally, extracting himself from Nursey’s embrace. He adjusts himself in his shorts, wrinkling his nose at the drying stickiness of it all.

“I love you, you know,” Nursey says as Dex lifts the cover of the grill, waving the smoke out of his face. “Always have.”

“I know,” Dex smirks at him over his shoulder. “I love you too. Even if you are a weirdo who drinks UV Blue and wants a hedgehog.”

“And like, ten kids,” Nursey adds, wrapping his arms around Dex from behind and placing a kiss just behind his ear. “And goats. We should totally get goats.”

“No.”

“Oh, or cows! Have you seen those fluffy ones? Or no wait, a mini horse. Dex, come on, think of all the possibilities.” Nursey laughs in his ear before continuing to come up with increasingly more bizarre animals.

Holster’s words from all those years ago come back to him - _Either you’ll end up finding someone who just blow your socks off and you’ll never look back, or you and Nursey will end up together. You deserve to be happy bro, and I’m 100% sure you’ll get there one day._ Dex smiles and leans back against Nursey’s chest. He finally got there.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The poem Nursey recites a piece of is XVII by Pablo Neruda.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come hang with me on [tumblr](http://dexsnursey.tumblr.com). This fic is also posted [here](http://dexsnursey.tumblr.com/post/147758025070/nurseydex-week-prompt-within-a-few-years-after) on tumblr, if you use that site for bookmarking purposes :)


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